


Feverish

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Community: springkink, F/M, Flirting, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-18
Updated: 2010-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  Fullmetal Alchemist (Ed/Win) - sensual undress, whatever happens after is up to you.  <br/>Summary:  Winry thinks Ed might be sick.  It's not that kind of a fever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feverish

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks to Cornerofmadness for the edits, which happened after I posted the story. :D   
> Disclaimer: No no, never never, uh uh uh.

* * *

"I don't like that look on your face." Winry's brow scrunched and her lower lip poked out. Edward thought, almost helplessly, that she was so cute – even when she giving him a glare that promised pain, death and destruction, not necessarily in that order. "What is it?"

"Uh," Edward held up his hands, hoping he could pull off – what? Innocent? Shocked? What was the appropriate expression for something like this, while he tried to get his brain to move – and why wasn't it working, anyway? He was smart! His brain ought to work and help him get through this!

Winry folded her arms over her chest. Edward tried not to pay attention to how that movement lifted her breasts. Nope. He wasn't looking there, no no, thought it felt like more of his brain shut down while another part of his body was definitely taking interest. Mentally pleading with Winry not to look down – pleasepleaseplease! – Edward focused on Winry's face. Mouth. No! Don't lick your lower lip. No, no. Was her mouth moving? Did she actually say something? "Edward!"

…oops?

"What is wrong with you?" Her hands were jammed onto her hips and she was leaning forward and – dammit! – Edward swallowed hard, forcing his eyes up again, thinking, really, Winry shouldn't wear such tight shirts. Oh, right. She'd asked him a question.

"Nothing!" Yeah, that's a clever answer.

Her disgusted snort told him it wasn't the right one, though. "Ed, you've got this goofy look on your face and you're not listening to me." Winry glanced away, obviously disgusted. "I'm used to you ignoring me - "

"I'm not!" Edward interrupted, shrinking back a little at the glower turned his way.

"But," and her fury melted, just like that, into concern, "you look feverish. You aren't sick, are you?"

"No?"

Winry rolled her eyes. "Just like you to not know," she grumbled, touching the backs of her fingers to Edward's forehead. "You feel kinda hot." She searched his face, her brow furrowed, chewing on her lip.

"I'm fine." Edward hoped that came out sounding like he really was okay, instead of a stupid little squeak, which was how he heard it.

The cocked eyebrow Winry gave him told Edward he'd failed in his assurance. The way she looked him over, her frown deepening just a bit, made him think that he'd failed in other ways, too. "Granny told me I should be ready for something like this."

"What?" The old hag…wait, what had micro-granny said? Ready for what? Edward opened his mouth to ask but Winry fixed him with a stare that closed his jaw tight. Why was she looking at him that way, anyway? She hadn't…looked…all the way down…had she?

Winry rubbed her chin, her expression thoughtful. "Good thing I'm prepared."

Edward felt at a complete and total loss. What the hell was Winry talking about? His jaw dropped back open as her fingers fell away from her chin, thumb rubbing over her collarbone before her fingernails flirted with the neckline of her shirt. "Winry?"

She smiled, a sweet, wicked grin that shot a jolt straight down to Edward's groin. "Hey, Ed? I've got something to show you." Her hands drifted slowly down over the swell of her breasts to twitch her shirt's hem. "Do you want to see?"

He swallowed hard. Edward really hadn't expected this – well, that wasn't quite right. He'd been hoping – okay, fantasizing about it, even if the distraction was something he'd thought he could ill afford, back when he was chasing after the Philosopher's Stone and trying to find a way to bring Al's body back. He hadn't wanted any distractions then and, if truth be told, he really hadn't thought he deserved to even consider a scenario like this. Winry, on the other hand, seemed willing to do more than tease him with the thought of her naked tummy.

"Well?"

Winry's demand snapped his attention back to the here and now. His tongue didn't seem to want to work and he wasn't going to risk squeaking out another answer. Nodding repeatedly, Edward hoped he wasn't making a huge fool of himself.

Laying her hands on his shoulders, Winry walked forward, making Edward back up almost reflexively. "Sit." She gently pushed him down into a chair, wagging her finger in front of his nose. "Stay."

"I'm not a dog, Winry!" he burst out, half rising from his seat. Before he could get any farther, her hands were on his chest. Their warmth startled him. So did the fleeting brush of her mouth against his, gone almost before Edward had a chance to realize Winry had actually kissed him. Dazed, he fell back into the chair, watching as Winry's fingers skimmed the hem of her shirt. The fabric lifted, a flash of pale belly capturing Edward's eyes.

"I know you're not a dog." Winry smiled, mischievous. "But you're almost trainable."

"Hey!" Before he could protest further, Winry flashed more of her stomach and Edward wasn't sure where the rest of his thought went but maybe it really wasn't that important. At least, not when confronted with the shirt peeling up over her torso, giving him an eyeful of her breasts. Swallowing at his suddenly dry mouth, Edward thought that the pictures in the catalogues he'd seen (in passing – he hadn't actually gone looking for something like that!) were nothing compared to seeing brassieres for real. The lacy fabric enhanced and Edward felt his pulse thudding in his penis at the hint of darkened skin, about the size of a twenty-five sen piece, almost directly in the center of each cup.

Winry twisted her wrist, making her shirt flutter to the floor. The movement distracted Edward for a second but he jerked his eyes back on Winry as she dragged her palms slowly up her belly, cupping her breasts in either hand. She tweaked her nipples until they stood up, sharp points in the soft fabric of her brassiere. Edward heard a breathy moan, realized it came from him. Smiling through a soft blush, Winry reached behind her back, a move that thrust her breasts forward. Her shoulders shimmied and the brassiere slid slowly down her arms, drifting away.

The blush moved down to warm the top curve of her breasts. Edward sucked in a deep breath at the sight of them and how pretty they were. His hands flexed convulsively, wanting to touch and stroke Winry's breasts like her hands were doing now. "Winry." Her name, dragging out of him in a low groan, made her smile brighten and her coloring heighten, both. The roses in her cheeks were nearly the same color as her areola, what was left of Edward's clinical mind thought, before Winry distracted him by leaning closer, her hands sliding back down her taut stomach.

Almost too distracted by the lush expanse of flesh in front of him, Edward nearly missed the first few centimeters of zipper going down but the telltale sound got his attention focused back on Winry's fingers rather than bobbing nipples. He realized, watching Winry twist, her body was really pretty naked and he ought to tell her that. Her skirt started inching down her swaying hips and Edward reminded himself to tell her later, when he was able to make coherent sounds besides the moans that kept slipping out.

Eyes widening at the sight of Winry's panties – who knew they could be such bits of froth and lace? – Edward stammered out something. He wished he knew what it was – his mouth ran away with him, like always, but at least Winry was still smiling. That meant it'd been good, right?

"Thanks, Ed." Her voice had taken on a resonant quality, grown a little husky. Winry sounded so good. She hooked her thumbs through the sides of her panties, stretching them out just a little bit, and peeped at him through her bangs. "Want to help me with these?"

Edward didn't even realize he was out of the chair until his trembling hands rested on top of hers. His pulse pounded in his ears and his groin, a terrible distraction, but not enough to break his focus on the heat in Winry's eyes. What was the question? Oh, yeah.

"Yes," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her.

* * *


End file.
